


Cross-Canadian Snow

by tomatojuicee



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Kinda, M/M, Moonbae, Satire, bc im a lazy fuck who cant come up with my own ideas, not really satire just a rewrite of an ernest hemmingway story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatojuicee/pseuds/tomatojuicee
Summary: “There’s nothing better than skiing.” Jacob said. “The way it feels when you first drop off on a long run.”“Yeah,” said Kevin. “You can’t even put it into words.”A rewrite of the Ernest Hemmingway short story Cross-Country Snow.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Cross-Canadian Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I read Ernest Hemmingway's original story for some god-forsaken reason and for a completely different but still god-forsaken reason, connected it to moonbae. enjoy.

The ski lift bucked twice and deposited its passengers on the glittering crest of snow. It turned and retreated back down the mountain. The gale scouring the exposed surface of the mountain had swept the snow surface into a wind-board crust. 

Jacob, waxing his skis in the car, pushed his boots into the toe irons and shut the clamp tight. He jumped from the car sideways onto the hard wind-board, made a jump turn and crouching and trailing his sticks slipped in a rush down the slope. On the white below, Kevin dipped and rose and dipped out of sight.

The rush and the sudden swoop as he dropped down a steep undulation in the mountain side plucked Jacob’s mind out and left him only the euphoric flying, dropping sensation in his body. He rose to a slight up-run and then the snow seemed to drop out from under him as he dived faster and faster in a rush down the last, long steep slope. Crouching so he was almost sitting back on his skis, trying to keep the center of gravity low, the snow driving like a sand-storm, he knew the pace was too much. But he held it. He would not let go and spill. 

Then a patch of soft snow, left in a hollow by the wind, wiped him and he went over and over in a clashing of skis, feeling like a shot rabbit, then stuck, his legs crossed, his skis sticking straight up and his nose and ears jammed full of snow. Kevin stood a little farther down the slope, knocking the snow from his wind jacket with big slaps. 

“That was a nice run until you ate shit, Jakey Bakey.” he called to Jacob. “The soft snow wiped me too.”

“What’s it like on this next one?” Jacob kicked his skis around as he lay on his back and stood up. He peered over at the next steep drop the mountain took. Kevin knew Vancouver slopes better than he did.

“Stay on your left. It’s a nice steep drop but you gotta turn with a snow-plow at the bottom ‘cause there’s a fence.”

“Wait a sec and we’ll take it together.”

“No, you go first. I like to see you take the steep runs.” Kevin smiled faintly.

Jacob came up past Kevin, big back and bleached blond head still snowy, then his skis started slipping at the edge and he swooped down, hissing in the crystalline powder snow and seeming to float up and drop down as he went up and down the billowing slopes. He held to his left hand at the end, as he rushed toward the fence, keeping his knees locked tight together and turning his body like tightening a screw brought his skis sharply around to the right in a smother of snow and slowed into a loss of speed parallel to the hillside and the wire fence.

He looked up the hill. Kevin was coming down in telemark position, kneeling; one leg forward and bent, the other trailing; his sticks hanging like some insect’s thin legs, kicking up puffs of snow as they touched the surface. Even bundled in his skiing attire, his frame was still so skinny and deceivingly frail looking. Finally he came around in a beautiful right curve, crouching, his legs shot forward and back and body leaning out against the swing, his sticks accenting the curve like points of light, all in a wild cloud of snow.

“I was afraid to take the turn like you did,” Kevin said, “the snow was too deep. You looked good.” His breath was coming fast and turning to mist in the alpine air, his cheeks stung a pink bordering on fluorescent.

“I can’t telemark with my leg,” Jacob said. Their eyes met and then broke away.

Jacob held down the top strand of the wire fence with his ski and Kevin slid over. Jacob followed him down to the road. The path took them into a pine forest. The road became polished ice, stained orange and a tobacco yellow from logging transports. Jacob and Kevin kept to the stretch of snow along the side. The road dipped sharply to a stream and then ran straight up-hill. Through the woods they could see a long, weather-beaten building with sloping roofing and eaves that drooped to almost brush the snow. Through the trees it was a faded yellow. Closer the window frames were painted green. The paint was peeling.

Jacob knocked his clamps loose with one of his ski sticks and kicked off the skis. “We might as well carry them up here,” he said. 

He climbed the steep road with the skis on his shoulder, kicking his heel nails into the icy footing. He heard Kevin breathing and kicking in his heels just behind him. They stacked the skis against the side of the inn and slapped the snow off each other’s ski pants, stamped their boots clean, and went in. 

Inside it was quite dark. An old porcelain stove was in the corner of the room. There was a low ceiling. Smooth benches back of dark, stained tables were along each side of the rooms. Two men sat over their meals and two tall beers next to the radiator, speaking in French. The boys took off their jackets and sat against the wall on the other side of the stove.

A voice in the next room stopped singing and a girl in a blue apron came in through the door to see what they wanted to drink.

“Two Molsons,” Jacob said. “Is that all right, Keb?”

“Sure,” Kevin shrugged. “You like beer more than me.”

The girl went out.

“There’s nothing better than skiing.” Jacob said. “The way it feels when you first drop off on a long run.”

“Yeah,” said Kevin. “You can’t even put it into words.”

The girl brought their beers and Kevin had trouble with his. Jacob finally opened it against the edge of the table and some spilled onto the table. The girl went out and they heard another voice join her as she started singing again in the next room.

“Sorry for spilling.” Jacob said.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Kevin said. “I wonder if they’ve got any cake.” 

“Let’s find out.” The girl came in and Jacob flagged her down.

“Who were you singing with back there?” Kevin asked her. He half thought about asking for a hot chocolate, but decided against it.

“My girlfriend.” She said shortly. “We have some apple strudel if you want it.” She was gone quickly.

“Why did she run off like that?” said Kevin. “It wasn’t like we were going to treat her differently.”

“Oh, well. She doesn’t know us and there are still awful people in the world, especially in more rural, conservative areas I guess. It was brave of her to be honest to a pair of strangers.”

“Yeah,” Kevin said. He paused. “But sometimes it’s easier than being honest to the people you know.” He and Jacob were both silent.

The door came open and a group of woodcutters from up the road came in, stamping their boots and steaming in the room. The waitress brought in beers for the gang and they sat at the two tables, smoking and quiet, with their hats off, leaning back against the wall or forward on the table.

Outside the horses on the wood sledges made an occasional sharp jangle of bells as they tossed their heads. Kevin and Jacob were content. They were fond of each other. They knew they had the run back home ahead of them.

“When have you got to go back to school?” Jacob asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Kevin answered. “I’ve got to drive down before classes start on Monday.”

“I wish you could stay another week and we could do the backside runs and maybe go snowshoeing.”

Kevin half-laughed. “You know I hate snow-shoeing. Anyways, getting my Master’s is important to my parents. They always hated that I did a BFA in undergrad.” Jacob gave a sympathetic nod. Kevin poked at his half-finished strudel. “Jacob, don’t you wish we could just take a road trip together? Just could take our skis and hit all of the best resorts and visit the National Parks and see the whole country together and not give a fuck about responsibilities or anything.”

“Just like the good old days.” Jacob’s mouth tugged up.

“Like in college, any time the school gave us a break.”

“And we would get the whole trip on my film camera. It would be amazing.”

“Have you been taking pictures with it lately?”

“Nah.” They ate the strudel and washed it down with beer. Kevin leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes.

“Alcohol always makes me feel this way,” he said.

“Feel bad?” Jacob asked.

“No. I feel good, but funny.”

“I know,” Jacob said.

“Yeah,” said Kevin.

“Should we have another round?” Jacob asked.

“Not for me,” Kevin said. His beer sat almost untouched. They sat there, Jacob leaning his elbows on the table, Kevin slumped back against the wall.

“Is Hyunsook going to have a baby?” Kevin said, coming down to the table from the wall.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“She’s due in August.”

“Are you excited?”

“Of course. I am now.”

“Are you gonna move to Korea?”

“I guess so. Her family is all there.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Does Hyunsook?”

“Not really. It’s mostly her parents.”

Kevin sat silent. He looked at Jacob’s empty bottle next to his unfinished one. “That sucks.” he said.

“No. Not exactly,” Jacob said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Jacob said. 

“Will you ever go skiing together in Korea?” Kevin said.

“I don’t know,” said Jacob.

“The slopes aren’t great,” Kevin said.

“No,” said Jacob. “They’re not tall enough. The runs aren’t great and Hyunsook doesn’t even like the snow much.”

“Yeah,” said Kevin, “that’s how it is in Korea.”

Jacob made a grunt of agreement. “That’s the way it is everywhere I’ve ever been.”

“Yeah,” said Kevin, “that’s the way it is.”

The French got up and paid and went out. “I wish we were French,” Kevin said.

“They’ve all got goiter,” said Jacob.

“That’s bull,” Kevin said.

“I always thought so too,” said Jacob. They laughed.

“Maybe we’ll never go skiing again, Jacob,” Kevin said.

“We’ve gotta,” said Jacob. “It’s never the same without you.”

“We’ll make it happen,” Kevin said.

“We’ve gotta,” Jacob agreed.

“I wish we could promise.” Kevin said.

Jacob stood up. He buckled his wind jacket tight. He leaned over Kevin and picked up the two ski poles from against the wall. He stuck one of the ski poles into the floor.

“There isn’t any good in promising,” he said.

They opened the door and went out. It was very cold. The snow had crusted hard. The road ran up the hill into the pine trees. They took down their skis from where they leaned against the wall in the inn. Jacob put on his gloves. Kevin was already started up the road, his skis on his shoulder. Now they would have the run home together.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh writing this felt a little sad. jacob and kevin both seem like miserable fucks here. the friend who sent me the original story had no such interpretation but there was a clear homosexual undercurrent in the original too. the opportunity was too good to pass up, especially as the cutting edge of the fandom opinion shifts to moonbae being a pr relationship. let me know what you think!


End file.
